Society Ties
by Silverpistola
Summary: Link is forced to spend the summer accompanying new debutante Aryll to the dullest social events, but things start to look up when he develops a friendship with his charming neighbour and finds the perfect guy for Aryll. Zelink.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys, this is my newest story. For anyone who reads 'A Gypsy Tale' don't fear! The last chapter will be up some time this week. **PLEASE** read and review. Your thoughts mean so much to me.

Muchos luv, Silverpistola

Society Ties

Chapter 1

Moving back to London had been a nightmare. Of course, it was only a temporary matter until Aryll's wedding was over. Still, a wedding in my family was not a two week affair. Say more six months.

And she didn't even have a groom yet.

My mother met me at the airport.

"Oh Link, darling, you're looking so pale!"

"Hello Mother," I greeted, kissing her cheek.

"It's so good to see you. Though I don't know why you insist upon living in that godforsaken city. I bet you haven't seen the sun in months."

"Well, I've come to the right place, haven't I?" I quipped, with a grimace as I glanced out the window. Rain.

"April showers, April showers," she insisted, following the direction of my gaze.

My Mother was an elegant woman, even in her older years. She was small, with blonde hair always swept up and commanded a surprising amount of authority. Of course, she'd had to after my Father passed away when Aryll was small. I knew it was comforting to her to have me home, a man around the house to help with the wedding arrangements.

If there was a wedding.

"Aryll is being as stubborn as a goat," Mother confided as we got into the car.

Franklin, our chauffeur since childhood, smiled.

"I would have expected nothing less," I answered, proudly.

"Oh Link, you are such a bad influence on her. She often refers to your escape from society, you know," Mother sighed, "of course, I keep telling her that that was a _completely_ different matter. Still, she won't budge."

"She just needs to meet the right gentleman," Franklin assured her.

"I do hope so, Franklin."

I remained silent as we approached the motorway. Secretly, I couldn't see Aryll ever marrying, she was far too independent, but to tell my Mother that might be the end of her.

* * *

The familiar crunch of gravel as the Avensis slid up the driveway brought back a thousand memories. It had been two years since I'd returned to the manor, preferring for Mother and Aryll to visit me in New York rather than return to England. Of course, lately work had just been so hectic that there hadn't been time to go home. 

That's what I'd told myself, anyway.

"Link!" Aryll squealed as I emerged from the car. She ran from the front doorstep, throwing her arms around me.

"Hey little sis," I answered, hugging her tightly.

She'd gotten taller since New Year. Her bright eyes sparkled and her pretty face was lit up in a smile.

"Come on, out of this rain," Mother ordered, leaving Franklin to collect my cases.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the house was flowers. Flowers in jugs, flowers in vases, flowers in baskets. On every surface and tabletop, some clustered on the floor, others forging a path into the parlour.

"Wow. Someone die?" I asked, coming to the only rational conclusion for the flowers.

"Of course not," Mother answered. "They're for Aryll," she added, matter-of-factly.

"Er, you might need to fill in a blank for me here," I told her, looking around at the flowers in disbelief.

"The flowers are from every man who wants to get his mits on the Hero fortune now I'm eligible," Aryll explained with a roll of her eyes.

"Aryll, don't be so vulgar," Mother snapped.

"I never knew you were so popular," I teased as we sat down in the parlor.

Aryll said nothing, preferring to fall into a sulk.

"Now, Link you of course know that you're here to fulfill your brotherly duty," Mother announced, ignoring Aryll who had her arms crossed and was pouting, slightly. "Over the summer and spring, Aryll is expected to attend many social events and as such she needs an escort."

"And it looks like I'm gonna need a stick," I answered, casting another glance at the flowers.

"Do I get any say in this?" Aryll demanded.

"No," Mother answered, bluntly. "Now, here is a calendar of events and indication of what you should wear to each one."

I glanced down the list. "Mother, I don't _play_ tennis. And what exactly am I supposed to do at a garden party?"

"What am _I_ supposed to do at a garden party?" Aryll countered.

"Socialise," Mother answered, simply, passing me another list. "These are potential suitors and other important people. You should make it your mission to make an impression upon each of them."

"Seems Aryll already has," I muttered.

Mother ignored my comment. "Should I have Liza move your things upstairs?"

"Er, no."

This caused wide stares from them both. Of course it would have been most practical to stay at home, but the thought of it made me nauseous. I'd become too accustomed to my own company and having my own space I just couldn't be thrust back into the hustle and bustle of the manor.

Which was why when Sheik offered me his flat to stay in, I'd jumped at the offer.

* * *

I met Sheik in Camden. He was wearing a long leather coat, despite the May warmth. He nodded as he saw me approach. 

"How goes it with the American man?" He asked with a smirk.

"Save it. I'm hardly pleased to be back."

"It isn't like you're leaving anyone behind," he answered as we passed through the underground turnstiles and out onto the street.

There was no point denying the truth in that statement. My love life had been non-existent since… forever. I never seemed to have much luck with women. They were all so repelled by my obsession with work and a little _too_ attracted when they found out about my family's money.

"So why exactly are you back? You weren't very clear about it."

"Aryll's first season. I'm her escort."

Sheik arched a brow. "I didn't think she was eighteen yet."

"Yeah," I answered, preferring not to discuss Aryll's reluctance to be paraded about at social functions.

Sheik had stopped in front of one of the newer blocks of private flats and was searching in his pocket for his keys. "I share the second floor with my new neighbour. I've only met her once, but she's pretty quiet so you shouldn't have a problem with her."

Sheik unlocked the door and I followed him into the foyer.

"Why aren't you staying here?"

Sheik snorted. "I hate Camden. I only bought this place to escape my Father once in a while."

As the lift doors were about to slide shut, a blonde figure ran across the foyer. I caught the doors and she smiled, gratefully, panting slightly.

"Thank you."

"Ah. This is my neighbour. Or should I say your neighbor."

Sheik's neighbor was very pretty, with a cute face and long blonde hair that was tumbling out of it's bun.

"Hi, I'm Link," I told her, with a nod, "I'm staying at Sheik's for a while."

"Oh," she pushed a strand of rebellious hair out of her face, revealing buttercup blue eyes. "I'm Zelda. Just ask if you need anything."

I smiled. "Thanks. I will."

Sheik jabbed at the button for the second floor and the lift jerked upwards.

"So you'll be at the Harrington's Garden Party tomorrow?" Sheik assumed with a smirk.

"Bright, fashionably late and dressed from head to toe in royal blue."

"Brings out your eyes," Sheik quipped.

I shot him a glare before glancing past him at Zelda, who was biting her lip as she checked the messages on her phone. She was dressed in a black suit coupled with a white shirt that made me think she must work in an office, but my eyes were drawn to her ankle where I could make out a tattoo. A daisy chain.

The lift doors slid open accompanied with a cheerful bing! and we stepped out onto the second floor landing. Zelda smiled, sweetly.

"See you around!"

I watched her fumble with her keys as Sheik opened the door to his apartment. It really was too bad every moment of my stay would be spent at garden parties and impromptu-planned-for-months-get-togethers.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey everyone! Check me out, updating within a week! Thanks for the reviews, I always appreciate when people take a chance on a new story. I'm planning this one to move a little more slowly than my other stories since I've been accused (justifiably) of rushing into romance.

I hope you guys like this chapter! Please review because it makes me more happy than would be considered normal!

Muchos luv, Silverpistola

P.S. Yes, my spelling is stubbornly English, thanks for noting that Sage of Downtown Hyrule. I do apologise if it annoys any American readers, but I must continue to defy my American spell checker (which, no matter how many times I try to change the settings, stays on American English, grr!). I'm glad you mentioned it before I get accused of making mistakes :)

Chapter 2

Aryll was yet again sulking. I looked across the car, feeling slightly uneasy. Of course, the flood of flowers had been amusing, but it hadn't occurred to me then that my sister might actually be _engaged_ soon. Still, in the past six months she had matured more than I'd expected and I had to admit she did look very pretty in her white summer dress. Add that to the millions she would inherit and… sheesh.

"You know Aryll, it's a little chilly. Are you sure you don't want to nip back to the house for a sweater?" I suggested.

Aryll looked at me, strangely.

"No, I think I'll be okay."

"Suit yourself."

"I wouldn't worry Master Hero, much of the garden party will be under cover," Franklin assured me, pulling up at the gates of the Harrington's manor.

"Thanks Franklin," I muttered

"How's Sheik's place?" Aryll asked.

"Uh…"

My thoughts returned to this morning, leaving Sheik's apartment to see Zelda stretching like a cat and glancing at her mail in her open doorway, dressed in cute pajamas, the iridescent daisy chain adorning her ankle.

"It's good."

Aryll sighed as we pulled up at the door. Already I could hear the buzz of chatter around the other side of the house.

"Welcome to the rest of my summer," Aryll muttered.

"Hem hem. _Our_ summer."

Aryll nodded. "I'm sorry."

"No time to get sentimental. We're both stuck here; let's make the most of it. Now put on your social smile," I commanded.

Aryll barred her teeth.

"Not perfect, but it'll do."

* * *

I was watching from a suitable distance as Aryll made small talk with a guy around a foot taller than her with sandy hair. So far I had seen far too many people I hadn't missed during my absence from society and answered the same three questions what felt like a million times. Where was it you moved? Married yet? Well, why ever not? 

"I was right, blue is your colour."

I turned to see Sheik stood beside me dressed, yet again, in black. Black shirt, black pants and shiny black shoes, sunglasses dangling from his loose collar.

"And I'm guessing yours is black?"

Sheik ran a hand through his blonde highlights. "Aren't you missing a sister?"

"Oh, she's over there, somewhere," I answered, waving my hand in the general direction. The heat was making me feel too tired to be specific.

Sheik quirked a brow, his red eyes widening.

"_That's_ your sister? Aryll?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, noting the direction of his gaze. "Course," I added, only just taking notice of his tone.

"I haven't seen her for quite a while," Sheik reasoned, not taking his eyes off her as she accepted a glass of sparkling water from another potential. "She's changed."

"You're not the only one that's noticed," I told him, glancing about and seeing around four other guys looking in her direction.

"How's the flat? Figured out the shower?" Sheik asked, only just managing to tear his eyes away.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Listen, what do you know about that neighbour?" I stopped, reading the over-interest in my voice. "What's-her-name?"

"Oh, Zelda? Not much really. She's some sort of journalist, I think. Listens to a lot of Nick Drake. Why d'you ask?"

"Uh, no reason. Just wondering, you know, in case I get caught in a lift with her again."

Luckily, Sheik was distracted enough not to question me further.

"Uh-oh. Incoming."

"Huh?"

"I'll catch you later," Sheik told me, hastily, escaping as I was descended upon.

"Link Hero!"

Oh hell. No wonder he'd scarpered.

Malon Rivers looked no different than the last time I'd seen her. The same long strawberry blonde hair, same fierce blue eyes and grinding voice. She was dressed in an overlarge sunhat, a glass of champagne clutched in her hand, the other reaching to adjust her dress.

"Hello Malon. Long time no see," I said, feebly.

"Indeed it is!"

She yanked me into a hug, enveloping me in a wave of Chanel.

"What brings you back to London?" She asked, releasing me.

"Oh, well, it's Aryll's first season-"

"Of course! I noticed! She's quite the social butterfly, isn't she? Not like yourself."

I smiled, weakly.

"Where was it you moved? New York?"

I nodded.

"No wedding ring," she said, glancing at my hand.

"Not yet."

I glanced at _her_ hand. No ring. No wonder.

"Malon, darling!"

Malon turned her head to see her mother calling her over.

"Duty calls. Oh Link, we must get together while your back in town, you know," she winked, causing me to cringe, inwardly, "for old times sake."

"Er, if I have time-" But she was already walking away, not giving me the chance to turn down her offer.

I looked over at Aryll who had obviously heard the whole conversation. Malon had never been soft-spoken.

Aryll grinned, cruelly.

"I take it back," I told myself, "the sooner she's married, the better."

* * *

I was collapsed on the couch in Sheik's flat, recovering from the hellish garden party that evening when the doorbell rang. 

I looked up sharply. Sheik had told me no one stopped by this place since he used it to get his work done in solitude. I got up, praying it wasn't some floozy of his.

"I got a delivery for you," a student aged boy announced as soon as I opened the door. He glanced down at a sheet in his hand. "One deep pan, spicy chicken pizza, a pint of Phish food and a large diet coke?"

He looked up to confirm this and I shook my head.

"I didn't order anything."

"You sure?"

I was about to tell him that I was perfectly _sure_ I hadn't ordered pizza when the door on the other end of the hallway opened and Zelda came rushing towards us.

"I ordered it," she told the guy, taking the bag from him and handing him a note from her purse.

"Sorry," he said to me, "musta got the wrong door."

"Must of," I agreed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

"I'm sorry," she told me, looking nervous as the delivery boy moved into the lift and out of sight.

As she looked up at me, her big blue eyes looking so apologetic, I felt my snippy mood melt away.

"That's okay. It wasn't your fault."

Unfortunately, she wasn't in pajamas this time, but wearing jogging pants and a sweatshirt that was around five sizes too big. Strangely enough, she still managed to be more attractive than all the women I'd seen at the garden party, dressed from head to toe in Laura Ashley.

She smiled, retreating to her door.

"Still, sorry for disturbing you."

I closed the door, leaning against it once it was shut. God, what _was_ it about her?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the reviews! Muchos thanks to SnowCrystal for the help with my stupid spellchecker and firnoviel for pointing out some spaces missing! You guys rock.

This chapter is short, I know, but it has to be. And alas, no Zelda, but she'll return soon, I promise. And for anyone who is starting to think I may be tennis obsessed, I swear I'm not. It's just one of the things I know enough about to write about.

Please review! All reviews go straight to my inbox and I read them around dinner time to cheer me up!

Muchos luv, Silverpistola

* * *

Chapter 3

"Oh, don't you both look darling!"

I looked at Aryll. "The things I do for you."

"Hey, I never asked you to do this," she snapped.

The sun was blaringly hot, a rarity for London, and I had a whole afternoon dressed like a complete dolt ahead of me. I'd already been in a bad mood since I'd waited most of the morning for Zelda to appear in her pajamas and been sadly disappointed when I'd been forced to leave before the postman arrived. To top it all off, Malon Rivers had suddenly appeared.

"This is Patrick Klein," Malon told us, pointing to the 6 and a half ft Irish man beside her. "He's agreed to be my tennis partner today."

"How nice," Aryll answered, tugging at the bottom of her tennis dress.

"Well, we'll see you guys on the court!" She cried, sauntering away, the walking tree trailing behind her.

"I don't see why I had to wear white," I complained. "Not all the guys are wearing white."

"Yeah well, at least you don't have to wear a mini dress. Do you have any idea how degrading this thing is? I'm losing at least 20 IQ points just wearing it."

"You could've worn something a little," I hedged, sensing danger as we made our way over to the courts, passing tables of mothers sipping lemonade under large sunshades, "longer?"

"And died in the heat?"

"Suit yourself."

"Look, I don't want to play tennis," Aryll told me, "and you don't want to play tennis, so surely together we can somehow avoid having to?"

"We'd avoid it all together if we went home," I suggested, hopefully.

"Not an option," she answered as we sat down at a vacant table.

"Look, Aryll, I don't even understand why you're going through with this. I know you don't want to upset Mum, but she'd get over it. She's gotten over me escaping from society."

"That's what you think," Aryll muttered.

I flinched. "She has," I assured myself more than Aryll.

"Link, it's not about Mum, although this does give her more pleasure than is normal. I'm not like you. I may not want to be sold off to a man who only sees my bank balance, but I do want to find _someone_. And if I'm looking for someone, why not kill two birds with one stone and look for someone that our Mother might approve of?"

I fell silent for a moment, contemplating what she'd just told me.

"So, you do want to get married?" I said, quietly.

"Oh Link," she said, softly. "I understand that you're my big brother and I appreciate the concerned act, really. But yes, I do want to get married."

I swallowed. "Do I have to like it?"

She laughed. "No. But I want you to like him."

* * *

By mid afternoon Aryll and myself had managed to avoid picking up a racket as well as talking to Malon. We were only an hour away from being able to make our excuses and leave when I was cornered whilst getting another jug of lemonade.

"Link! You'll play doubles with me and Patrick, won't you?" Malon screeched, catching sight of me with her eagle eye.

"Um, well," I hesitated, frantically searching for an excuse, _any_ excuse.

Aryll wandered over as I was stood there, becoming more panicked by the second. However, despite my desperation, I was not distracted enough to miss the look of appreciation my sister was receiving from the 6 ft Irish tree. It was the first time I'd seen someone check out my baby sister and I was finding it caused an explosion of fury within me.

"Sure," I heard myself saying, my voice edged with defiance. "Sure we will."

* * *

Only five minutes later we were already two games down and I was beginning to regret my impulsive decision. Aryll was shooting me death glares and Malon's laugh was slowly peeling the enamel from my teeth.

As well as that, Patrick Klein, it seemed, was born with a racket in his hand.

As we swapped sides, Malon shot me a cringe-worthy smile. I tossed the ball to Aryll to serve. She leaned over, bouncing the ball, aiming for a deep serve. As I glanced up at our opponents, the fury returned. There was no denying it; Patrick Klein was blatantly ogling Aryll's behind.

Of course, I should have been prepared for this. Aryll was a real catch; the flowers had told me that. And I myself had checked out girls before, though I hoped I wasn't quite so obvious now. But I couldn't help it; my hands were shaking with rage.

My Mother had told me before that men cannot be held accountable for their actions when they are in a passionate rage. She told me this because my Father would often take out his frustrations on various priceless knick knacks around the house. Still, it's no excuse for what I did next.

Which was duck in front of Aryll and throw back my arm with all the strength I possessed to send the ball hurtling towards Patrick Klein's face.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello all! Thanks so much for all your reviews! I'm glad everyone seems to like Link as the overprotective big bro. I'm a little sister myself, so I know how it goes.

Another short chapter, but the next two are pretty long. PLEASE review because this story is like my baby and all parents can't get enough of people telling them how ADORABLE their baby is.

Muchos luv, Silverpistola

* * *

Chapter 4

Of course the match was most definitely over after that, which was _something,_ I guess. Other than that, and a great feeling of satisfaction, there was no advantage gained from my rash actions. On the contrary, Aryll fussed about the big dolt, bringing him ice and apologising endlessly, which he, of course, enjoyed thoroughly. And I was forced to endure Aryll's lecture on the way home.

As such, I was inexplicably delighted to see Zelda waiting for the lift as I walked into the lobby of my temporary residence. And then equally horrified as I realised I was still wearing my blaringly white tennis outfit. She smiled, brightly, as I stopped beside her.

"Good day?" She asked, pleasantly.

"Not really," I answered, honestly.

To my surprise, she looked genuinely concerned.

"I think I may be losing my little sister," I elaborated.

"Oh," she said softly, her hand fluttering to her mouth.

"I mean, not as in _losing_ her," I corrected, hastily, "I mean, well, I think she might end up getting married soon."

Her face brightened and she smiled, warmly. "How old is she?"

"Eighteen. Nineteen in a month."

"Do you like him? This guy?"

The lift arrived, the doors sliding open.

"I don't like any guy who dates my sister."

She laughed, lightly.

"Well, that's your right as a big brother."

"There really isn't anyone specific yet, though that's not through lack of interest," I explained, punching the button for the second floor.

"Oh. And you've only just realised she isn't a little girl anymore, right?"

I nodded. "Yes, exactly!"

"Tough," Zelda agreed, nodding sympathetically.

"Does your brother hate your boyfriend?" I asked, attempting nonchalance.

"I don't have a brother," she laughed again, "or a boyfriend for that matter. Still, my Dad really hated some of the guys I dated."

"See, my Dad died when we were little, so I kind of feel like-"

"You need to look out for her," Zelda finished for me.

"Yes!" I answered, pleased that she could see it the way I did. No one else thus far had understood where I was coming from.

"It's perfectly understandable," she told me, as we stepped out onto our shared hallway.

"You think so?"

She nodded. The sudden silence that fell between us felt oddly charged and once again I felt that odd nervousness around her.

"Hey, thanks. It's nice to have someone understand my perspective."

She treated me to her bright smile again. "Anytime Link."

And she turned to walk down her half of the corridor, shooting me a backward glance before disappearing into her apartment.

* * *

"I heard you kicked Patrick Klein's ass yesterday. Literally." 

I scowled. The weather had cooled from the previous day and I was sat outside Café Nero with Sheik, downing mediocre coffee and craving for a bagel.

"He was looking at my sister. Or, more specifically, my sister's behind."

Sheik burst out laughing.

"What?" I snapped. "I had every right to kick his ass. Turns out all I did was give him a black eye," I snorted, bitterly, "and warm Aryll to him in the process."

Sheik's laughter ceased, abruptly. "What?"

"Where _were_ you, anyway?" I asked, dumping more milk in my coffee.

"You really thought I'd turn up to a tennis tournament? Anyway, what do you mean you 'warmed Aryll to him'?"

"What do you care?"

Sheik shifted, looking away from me. "I don't. Just wondered, that's all."

His tone was reminiscent of my own when asking about Zelda. I smiled, suddenly, feeling a burst of hope.

"No, why did you ask?" I pushed, more firmly.

"Shit, I'm just trying to keep a conversation," he retorted, sharply.

My smile grew into a grin. "Do I look like an idiot Sheik?"

"I don't know," he quipped, his defense mechanisms kicking in.

"You're into my sister."

Sheik dropped his spoon. It landed on the metal table with a clank.

"That's a pretty serious accusation, Link."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Well, no. To be honest, I think since you pounded Patrick Klein with a tennis ball, you've become paranoid."

"Sheik, I'm not angry."

"Is that what you were telling yourself yesterday?"

"Sheik, honestly, listen to me. I'm happy."

He was eyeing me, warily. "Happy?"

"Happy that you like her. And I'm willing to give you an in."

Sheik's brow furrowed. "Why?" He asked, suspiciously.

"Because, Sheik, I know that you have money of your own, so there's no way you could be interested in my sister for her inheritance. And, despite occasionally being an arse, you're a good guy and since I'm not gonna find someone good enough for my sister, you'll have to do. So," I stirred my coffee, enjoying his look of intense distrust, "you admit that you like her, and trust me, after the way you were looking at her the other day, there's no use denying it, and I'll agree to help you."

"Where's the catch?"

I smiled, innocently, before nodding, earnestly. "Ah yes, the catch." I looked up, narrowing my eyes. "You hurt my sister; I surgically remove your reproductive parts. Without anaesthetic. Agreed?"

I watched him swallow. "Okay," he agreed, in a choked voice. "I'm in."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This chapter is way overdue, I know, please don't shoot me! Tomorrow I'm going to York with my friends for a week, so Chapter Six might be a little late too. I've tried to compensate for my tardiness with an extra long chapter.

Thankyou for all the wondrously sweet reviews. I'm so pleased that everyone seems to approve of my experimental Sheik/Aryll pairing. It was too controversial for me to resist!

Please, review or I'll be sad when I get home. Love y'all!

Silverpistola

* * *

Chapter 5

Maybe it was the awful day I'd had. Maybe I'd become desperate. Or maybe I just needed a friend. Either way, something had made me stop by the supermarket on my way home and now I found myself at her door, holding a pint of ice cream and reaching to ring the bell.

"Link," she said, as she opened the door, her voice a mix of surprise and, dare I hope, delight.

"I, er, remembered that you liked Ben and Jerry's, so I, um…"

She cut me off with a smile. "You wanna share?"

She beckoned me inside, taking the ice cream from me as I closed the door behind me. I glanced about nervously. Her flat was similar to Sheiks'; an open plan living room and kitchen with a bedroom and bathroom down the hall.

She pulled opened her dishwasher and pulled out two spoons, bumping it closed with her hip as I hovered behind her, nervously.

"Have a seat."

I followed her to the couch, where she sat down and switched off the television.

"If I'm disturbing-"

"Nah, I was just about to do a little work out," she told me, gesturing to a treadmill on the other side of the living room, "but I'd much rather eat ice-cream."

She pulled back the lid and handed me a spoon, setting the carton down between us. She was still dressed in what I figured were her work clothes; a pale blue fitted shirt and a black skirt.

"Your sister any closer to being married?" She asked, licking ice cream from her spoon in a way that made my toes curl for some reason.

"I hope not."

And I recalled the story of the disastrous light lunch.

* * *

Of course, Aryll had mentioned Patrick Klein's name to my Mother, to escape her bombardment of questions. Immediately, my Mother had insisted that Aryll invite him to what she called "a light lunch" at our manor the next day, half to apologise for my giving him a black eye and half to inspect his potential as husband material. For once, my presence wasn't required, but I spied this as my perfect chance to reintroduce Aryll to Sheik. So I'd convinced my Mother to include us both in her plans. 

Sheik turned up slightly early, looking uncomfortable in a black suit with my suggested dash of colour: a red tie.

"You look like Jack White," I teased as he stepped out into the garden.

"Oh, hello Sheik! It seems like forever since I last saw you. How is your Mother?" My own Mother asked, kissing Sheik on the cheek.

My Mother has perfected the art of looking pleased to see people. I truly believe she could greet Adolf Hitler with a smile and an air kiss.

"She's good, Mrs. Hero. Both my parents are touring France at the moment."

"How lovely. They're lucky, not having to worry about the season."

I nodded as Aryll joined us.

"Hey Aryll, you remember Sheik, right?" I said, innocently.

By good chance, she was wearing a red sundress that complimented Sheik's suit perfectly. As she sat down beside him, tossing him a smile, I was pleased to note that they did look as good a couple as I had imagined.

"Hey," Sheik said, smoothly, not betraying the anxiety I was certain he was feeling.

"You were at the Harrington's garden party, right?"

"Unfortunately enough for me," Sheik replied, rolling his eyes.

Mum wrinkled her nose, disapprovingly, but Aryll laughed.

"Tell me about it. If the whole season is as boring it might be the end of me."

"Oh don't worry, it gets better. The annual get together in honour of the Queen's Birthday at the Kendall's is sure to be fun. Especially when Mrs. Kendall gets drunk and starts yelling obscenities from the balcony at her husband."

This time Mum tutted out loud, but Aryll laughed again.

"So, who are we waiting for?" I asked Aryll, distracting her, slightly, from Sheik.

"Oh, Patrick. Hmm. I wonder where he is."

Sheik looked, pointedly, at me, but I looked away, feigning innocence.

By the time tea had been served, Patrick was still nowhere to be found and Aryll and Sheik were getting along like old friends, much to my Mother's chagrin.

"So Link," Sheik said suddenly, managing to tear his eyes from my sister, "how are things with the flat?"

"Fine."

"And Zelda?"

I shot Sheik a glare, but it was too late. Apparently he hadn't forgotten my "nonchalant" question about her at the garden party.

"Zelda?" My mother and sister both said, questioningly.

Sheik bit his lip, not looking guilty in the slightest.

"Anyone we know?" Mother asked, taking a prim sip of her tea.

"No. She's just Sheik's neighbour. No one special."

As if. Of course this part of the story I omitted. Not that it was all that significant as my Mother was denied the chance to interrogate me when Patrick Klein stumbled over the top of the eight ft fence that bordered our property and fell with an audible "oomph" into the hydrangeas.

"Patrick!" Aryll cried, jumping to her feet and hurrying over to where he had fell, followed by Sheik and Mother.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Aryll questioned, helping him to his feet.

"I," he panted, "I've been ringing the bell, but no one answered, so I-"

I stood up. "Ah, sorry Patrick. It's my fault. You see, I gave Franklin the afternoon off. Figured once the lunch was prepared there was nothing else for him to do."

Sheik shot me another look, but Mother nodded.

"Oh, Mr. Klein, I'm very sorry," she apologized as Aryll led him over to the table, Sheik trailing behind her.

* * *

At this point, Zelda burst out laughing. 

"You tried to sabotage a light lunch?" She said, incredulously, pointing her spoon at me.

"I had every right!" I said defensively, grabbing a spoonful of Phish food. "Besides, that Patrick Klein is bad news. Aryll would be much better off with Sheik."

Zelda smiled. "Too bad your plan backfired."

I sighed. "You're telling me. Both of them spent ages fawning over Patrick, apologising for me."

Zelda patted my arm, sending what felt like jolts of electricity through my body.

"If Aryll's meant to be with Sheik, she'll end up with him. This Patrick guy sounds like a temporary infatuation, anyway."

"Temporary infatuation?"

"The kind of guy that you know is wrong for you, but you can't resist anyway. Every girl enjoys a little attention and flattery, sometimes," she explained, "but it never lasts. Now Sheik, he sounds like a keeper."

"I very much hope you're right."

She smiled. "I generally am."

She took another spoonful as I looked at her, thoughtfully.

"So, what type of guy am I?" I asked, nervously.

"Hmm," she put her finger to her lips, "you, Link, are the mysterious yet kind stranger. The guy who makes sure a girl can't stop thinking about him by doing the simplest things, like grabbing the lift doors, or maybe bringing unexpected pints of ice-cream to her door."

I froze. Was she _flirting_?

"I always thought of myself of more of a geeky, needy kind of guy," I confessed.

"Nope. You're definitely mysterious."

This game was new territory to me. After all, it had been a long time since I'd been interested in anyone, let alone had that interest reciprocated.

"Surely you're the mysterious one. I mean, you know half my life history and all I know about you is what kind of ice-cream you like."

Well, apart from the information I'd got from Sheik.

She took my spoon from me and got up, dropping the now empty ice cream carton in the bin. "Goddesses, my life is dullsville. Trust me."

"Well, Sheik said you're a journalist, that's gotta be interesting, right?"

She dropped back down on the couch. "You'd think so, but really, it's not. I mean, I work in the reviews department. Television reviews. So journalist is really just a title to make me sound like more of a mover and shaker."

"Care to offer any further insight?" I asked, teasingly.

"Honestly, Link, after your stories about life in High Society, my life story would be a real anti-climax."

"Hey, my life isn't usually so eventful. When I'm at home I work, walk my dog and watch a lot of movies," I admitted.

"So where's home?"

I hesitated. "New York."

"Wow. That's a … really long way away."

Her voice sounded disappointed. I had to confess I'd been thinking the same thing myself.

"It had to be. I moved to escape society."

"The life of Riley got too much?"

"It's all so… fake, you know? People kissing your arse all the time and then stabbing you in the back. It's like everyone wears a mask, they're all terrified of people thinking badly of them."

She sat, listening patiently, as I ranted.

"You never really know anyone. No one's real…" I looked up at her, finally beginning to grasp why I was so drawn to her, "like you."

She blushed.

"Really Zelda, you're so honest. Everything you are is there for anyone to see."

I knew I'd said too much, but part of me didn't care.

"Zelda?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance you might wanna do this again? Like, tomorrow night?"

She smiled and I savoured the expression of pleasant surprise upon her pretty face. "Will there be ice-cream?"

"Maybe."

"Well then," she told me, "I guess I can't refuse an offer like that."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: CHAPTER SIX! I know its took two weeks, but I've been a p-retty busy bee. I went to York for the most amazing week with my friends. And then this week I got my A-level results and discovered that YES, I WILL BE GOING OFF TO MANCHESTER UNIVERSITY IN SEPTEMBER! As well as that, suddenly my internet browser hates me and refuses a) to let me put rulers in my chapters and b) to let me upload pictures onto my blog. If anyone could suggest something, I would be eternally grateful!

So, sorry for the delay, thankyou for the reviews and here is the very long sixth chapter (almost seven pages long on Microsoft word! Phew!)

Silverpistola (soon to be a Manchester University Student!)

Chapter 6

"Master Hero, we have a slight debacle ongoing," Franklin informed me as he opened the door to me the next morning.

"Mum, I refuse to wear that!"

"Oh, but sweetheart, it will look great on you."

"I am not a show pony, Mother!"

I smiled, stepping into the hall. That sounded more like my sister.

Mother came stomping down the stairs holding a pink dress aloft and looking indignant. Her eyes fell upon me and she smiled, the same smile that made me feel so guilty for my prolonged absence.

"I should have known this wasn't going to be easy," she told me, kissing my cheek, fondly.

"Maybe you took it a bit far, Mum."

She sighed. "Well, things were just going better than I'd expected. Maybe I became too optimistic."

I nodded, patting her arm.

"Don't you think Patrick Klein is just delightful, though?" She asked, her tone perking up. "Such a well-mannered young man."

"Hmm," I answered. "Didn't you like Sheik?"

"Oh, well, I've always _liked_ Sheik. He's a little," she paused, choosing her words, carefully, "abrupt though, don't you think?"

I wasn't sure why I'd asked. I could tell she hadn't been taken with Sheik. Although, now I thought about it, that would probably only work in his favour where Aryll was concerned.

"I wanted to invite him to Devon, if you don't mind, Mum."

We went to Devon annually, at the end of May to a house my Father had bought by the beach in his youth. Aryll and I both loved the house because it reminded us of the young, vital man my Father had once been before he was swallowed by society. Mother felt it was important for us all to spend time there, despite her hatred of the sea air that "ruined her hair", so that we might still think of him.

She pursed her lips, but was gracious as ever.

"Of course. If you think he'd like to come."

"Who'd like to come?" Aryll asked, descending the staircase in a green dress.

"Sheik. I'm inviting him to Devon."

"Why?" Aryll asked, bluntly.

"Well, you know his parents are always away. I think he spends too much time on his own." This was a blatant lie, but it seemed to work on my Mum, who nodded, sympathetically.

"Tell Sheik we'd be glad to have him along," Mum told me, her tone changed, substantially.

Phase one of my newest plan was already in place. Now just to pull off phase two.

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The boat show was even more boring than the garden party, if that was possible. At least so far that arsehole Patrick Klein hadn't shown up and Aryll seemed much less friendly with the men than she had been previously.

Which was either a good sign or a very, very dire one.

"I'd totally forgotten about going to Devon," Aryll told me as another potential walked away, looking disappointed after a very forced conversation with Aryll.

"I missed it last year," I told her, remembering a particularly miserable week in New York when I'd been unable to make the trip to Devon.

"So, why'd you really invite Sheik?" She asked, suspiciously.

"I told you."

"Yeah, whatever," she answered. "Aren't you going to invite that girl? Zelda?"

I blanched. "No," I croaked.

"Why not? Afraid we'll scare her away?"

"Aryll, drop it."

"Goddesses, Link, no need to be so _touchy_."

I rolled my eyes.

"Still," she went on, fanning herself with a programme of events, "I can't help but feel relieved. I mean, the last girl you went out with to my knowledge was _Malon Rivers_, of all people-"

"_That_ was not a relationship. I was forced into that and you know it," I argued.

"-And that was two years ago Link. _I'm_ getting more action than you lately."

My brow furrowed. "Oh really?"

She laughed, lightly, at my expression as I spotted Sheik slinking past the bar.

"Oh look!" She cried, her laughter stopping sharply, "There's Sheik."

I was certain he wouldn't come over. His spirit had been a little wounded by my sister and mother lavishing attention on Patrick Klein.

"Oh yeah," I said, casually.

"Why isn't he coming over?" Aryll asked as Sheik disappeared. Her voice, I couldn't help but notice, sounded slightly disappointed.

"Probably didn't see us. I need to ask him about Devon, anyway. Come on."

I pulled her by her arm out of the refreshments tent and over to where Sheik was basking in the shade of a tree. He watched us approaching, his expression indifferent.

"Sheik, my good man," I greeted him, heartily. He arched a brow, coldly.

"Link."

Aryll glanced from me to Sheik.

"Link wanted to ask you something Sheik," she prompted, after a moment of silence.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Mother has invited you to come to Devon with us next week. To stay in my Father's house by the beach."

Sheik's iciness was replaced by surprise. "She has?"

"Yes," Aryll answered for me, smiling at him in a way that made me slightly uncomfortable, "would you like to come?"

"Um," Sheik hesitated slightly. Just as I'd hoped, the offer had thrown him, though I had to admit Aryll's eagerness had surprised me also. "Sure."

Aryll beamed.

"I'll need some directions," Sheik hedged, glancing at me, suspiciously.

"We can give them to you at the Rivers' dinner party tonight," Aryll told him, quickly.

Cue my fake double take.

"The dinner party is _tonight_?" I exclaimed, turning to Aryll.

She nodded.

"But, I have plans tonight."

"What plans?" Aryll asked. Suddenly she grinned, brightly. "Plans with Zelda?"

Her voice was hopeful. It was sickening that she got so excited over my potential love life. Although, what did it say about me?

"Well…" I trailed off. This hadn't been part of the plan.

"My neighbour Zelda?" Sheik asked, suddenly interested. "You have plans with her?"

"Nothing monumental," I insisted.

"Goddesses, Link, you kept that quiet!"

"Don't worry about the party, Link," Aryll assured me.

I shot a meaningful glare at Sheik who was suddenly looking uncomfortable again.

"Well, um, I'm going," he paused as Aryll looked up at him, "what I mean to say is, if you wanted to go, I could, um, escort you. If you wanted."

Aryll bit her lip, coyly. "I do want to."

Sheik scratched his neck, nervously, as Aryll continued to gaze up at him.

"Okay. Well, I could pick you up. Um, in my car. Like, around sixish."

Success!

I smiled, widely, and patted Sheik's arm. "Thanks for helping me out, man."

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"You," Zelda announced, pointing at my chest, "are devious."

From the moment she'd opened her door that evening there had been a steady flow of comfortable conversation between us. I couldn't remember talking so easily with anyone I'd ever known.

"All's fair in love and war," I countered.

She laughed – goddesses, that _laugh_ – and shook her head.

"So you think she likes him?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't guess. Aryll isn't exactly predictable. But I have high hopes. I mean, a week of gallivanting on the beach can make anyone fall in love, right?"

"I wouldn't know," she answered, taking a prim sip of her water.

I had spent the entire afternoon trying to think where I could take her. First dates have to be casual, but I didn't want something _too_ casual. The cinema was awkward on a first date and I wasn't into something corny like bowling. The theatre was stuffy and staying in might imply I expected a little too much. After over-analysing all possible scenarios to death, I had decided upon one of my favourite Greek restaurants in Covent Garden.

"So they'll be on their first date, right now?" Zelda asked.

I nodded.

"He's probably wondering what to talk about and she's wondering if she looks nice," Zelda went on, smiling wistfully.

Clearly, these weren't issues with us. There had not yet been one awkward lull in the conversation so far and Zelda looked, in a word, ravishing.

"He'll be wondering whether or not to reach for her hand."

"She'll be hoping he does."

"And should he have brought her flowers."

"Not on a first date."

"Is she having a good time?" I went on, hintingly.

Zelda looked up at me from across the table. "Oh, she's having a great time."

Underneath the table our knees brushed, sending that strange current running through my body. She blushed, adorably, and I looked down at my hands.

"Tell me about _your_ family," I requested, softly, "I'm sure you must be tired of hearing about mine all the time."

She shook her head. "I guess there isn't really much to tell. I'm an only child. I grew up in a little town just outside of Cambridge, but fell in love with the city when I went to University. My Mum and Dad are both teachers which meant my life was pretty much mapped out from birth."

I nodded, sympathetically. "I know the feeling."

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"Oh, Link, look!"

Her bright eyes had lit up, suddenly, at the sight of the overlarge carousel the centre of the square. It was the old kind with the beautiful gilded horses, each with room for two.

Darkness was only just falling and the night was comfortably warm. As we'd left the restaurant our hands had entwined and now she was dragging me over to the carousel.

I smiled. "You wanna ride?"

She nodded, eagerly, and I reached in my pocket to hand over a few coins to the elderly man in charge of the tickets as she let go of my hand and rushed over to pick a horse, her fingers grazing their glossy, wooden manes as she passed them by.

"This one," she decided, opting for a gray horse with a black mane. I got up onto the back and offered her my hand, which she took, with another melting smile. Somehow it felt so natural for my arms to slip around her waist as the ride jerked into slow motion. As we gathered speed, she leaned back into me, the top of her head brushing my cheek. She fitted so perfectly in my arms, as if the goddesses themselves had moulded her to perfection. As we went round and around, holding so tightly onto to one another, the wind in our hair, I couldn't help but sigh, contentedly.

It had been a long time since I'd felt so at ease with anyone.

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"Tell me something," I asked, huskily, as we stood by the lift that night. After the carousel we had walked to the underground, hand in hand, and all too quickly found ourselves back on our shared corridor.

"What?" She spoke, so exhilaratingly softly.

"Your tattoo, when did you have it done?"

"Oh," she glanced down as if she had forgotten it's very existence. I, of course, had been treated to the sight of it all evening as Zelda had chosen to wear a skirt that fell just above her knees. "I got it the same day I got my degree. I figured that after then I couldn't be reckless any more, so it was my one last truly impulsive act before I was forced to become an adult."

I laughed, wondering how I knew there had to be a story behind the tattoo that I found to be so inexplicably attractive.

"I had a great time Link," she told me, softly, "really."

The feeling was most definitely mutual.

"So that means if I ask you out again…"

Her luscious lips curled into a delighted smile. "When and where?"

I considered this for a moment. "A picnic. On Sunday."

She bit her lip, a gesture I found completely adorable.

"Okay."

As if she'd been waiting for what would come next, she looked up at me through her eyelashes. Everything had suddenly become a little more serious as I leaned into her, brushing her hair away from her face and cupping her cheek. It might have been a while since my last first kiss, but I couldn't remember feeling so nervous then. Yet despite the nervousness, my actions were more commanding and certain as I slipped my other arm around her waist and drew her to me.

She reciprocated, eagerly, her hands roving across my chest before resting on my shoulders. Her head cocked to one side, those baby blues closing slowly as we finally kissed. And that kiss was everything she was; sweet, gentle and true.

"Link," she whispered as we parted; our foreheads resting against one another.

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, recovering from that earth-shattering kiss.

"Link," she whispered again.

"Mmm?"

"New York isn't _that_ far, right?"

My eyes met hers, finally grasping a frightening but equally exhilarating concept. This wasn't just a first date, a first kiss. This was a story I might one day tell to my grandchildren, or talk about in my wedding speech. This was the real thing, the stuff that novels and movies were made of. Those odd stirrings in my chest, the way my thoughts loved to stray to her all day long, the way I told her everything without worrying how it might sound.

This was the beginning of something big. Something huge. Something that had the potential to change everything. And she knew it too.

"No, not really."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hello! I know you all hate me for being a lazy updater, but it's a hectic time. This hasn't been helped by the fact that I've been suffering from a major inferiority complex ever since reading (and then re-reading a gazillion times) Crazygurlmadness's new story 'Only In Hyrule'. If you're not reading it… why not?

Please review! I could really use the feedback since I'm a little perplexed about this chapter.

Muchos luv, Silverpistola

Chapter 7

"Spill."

"Goddesses, that is _so _American."

"Don't try to distract me. I want to know everything."

"About what?"

"The coy act won't cut it with me. About _last night_."

"I could say the same thing to you."

"You first."

"Uh uh."

"Uh huh."

Aryll smiled. "Fine. If you must know it was… nice."

My brow quirked. "Nice as in dull or nice as in it was good but I don't wanna get over-excited about it in order to retain my dignity."

She bit her lip. "The latter."

I snapped my fingers, triumphantly. "I _knew_ it!"

"Oh Link," She sighed, happily, "he's just so… sarcastic."

I frowned. "Of course, that was the _exact_ quality I was searching for."

"When he picked me up he was really nervous, I could tell. He was wearing a blue suit and he looked totally adorable."

"Hmm, too much detail, Aryll."

"And he brought me white carnations and stammered out how beautiful I looked. And during the dinner party, which was dullsville by the way; an hour and a half of listening to Malon Rivers going on about her tour of Africa, he leaned over and asked me if I was about to fall asleep too. So we ditched the party and went to watch a singer at The Tudor."

"Sheik took you to the Tudor!" I yelled, my good mood suddenly vanishing.

Sheik took my sister to _The Tudor_! A cesspit of artists and touchy feely thespians, all of which drank too much wine and talked too much drivel. What was he _thinking_? She could have been brainwashed! Or started considering solipsism!

"Godesses, Link, chill. He didn't even have a drink and he introduced me to all his friends there. It was awesome. I've never met anyone like him, Link."

Her eyes were sparkling and her smile was so happy. It broke my heart. In a good and a bad way.

"You know, I expected a little reciprocation," Aryll told me, planting her hands on her hips.

"It's a slightly different scenario. You are my sister, Sheik is my friend, therefore I have a right to know. Zelda however, is linked to neither of you."

"She's Sheik's neighbour," Aryll argued, weakly.

"So?"

"And blonde, about 5"9, a journalist and a blues fan."

My eyes narrowed. "You googled her, didn't you?"

"Link, you may think you're pretty sly, but you learned from the best. Now, _tell me._"

I sighed. And in a manner befitting of a fifteen year old schoolgirl, the details of my date with Zelda came gushing out. Dinner, the carousel and the kiss.

The kiss, the kiss, the kiss. I'd relived it approximately a million times already. Goddesses, how had I become this gibbering mess of hormones?

Was it possible? Could I be falling in love?

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"I'd say so," Sheik agreed.

I dropped my head into my hands. "Oh hell."

"Link, love is the most wonderful, fulfilling-"

"Can it, Sheik. Could you stop thinking about my sister for one minute and help me?"

Sheik looked up from inspecting my screensaver and looked at me, pityingly.

"Link, have you never seen this film before? I can't help you. No one can."

I got up and pointed at him, accusingly. "That attitude is not helpful."

"Geez, Link, I don't get you anyway. You return to England, you find a girl, you fall in love. I hasten to mention that you would never have met her if I hadn't offered you my apartment. And how do you repay me? By _refusing to hoover!"_

"Way to focus," I mumbled, falling back down on the couch.

"Really Link, I can't even see the carpet for the dust."

"Sheik."

"And you haven't been using coasters."

"Sheik."

"And just _look_ at the state of those windows."

"I can't fall in love."

Sheik paused from his hygiene inspection. "Why not?"

"I live in New York. She lives in London."

"Yeah, well you're gonna have to come back again when I get married," Sheik told me, absent-mindedly.

My eyes widened. Sheik suddenly stood bolt upright as though the implications of what he had said had just occurred to him.

"I was joking-"

He was cut off by a knock at the door. For a moment we both just stared at it, not moving an inch.

"It's her," Sheik whispered, mischievously.

"More like it's one of your ex-birds," I snapped, getting up.

"I don't have ex-birds," Sheik muttered, defensively as I opened the door.

And it was her.

Looking radiant and angelic as always.

"Hi," she greeted, warmly.

"Hey."

I could almost feel Sheik roll his eyes. He was loving this. Git.

"Do you, uh, wanna come in?" I asked, trying to quell the sudden nervousness I felt.

"Well, I got off work early and I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to do something. Go see a film or…" She trailed off suddenly looking uncomfortable. "But you probably have plans already. I'm sorry…"

She turned to leave but I caught her arm. "I would honestly like to do something with you Zelda, it's just I'm going for a meal with Sheik-"

"-But you could come," Sheik quickly cut in, appearing in the doorway.

Zelda looked a little taken aback, but she recovered, quickly. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"No, it'd be great," Sheik insisted. "Aryll's coming too, anyway."

Sheik slipped on his jacket and stepped out into the hall. "I won't take no for an answer. We'll pick you guys up at seven."

Zelda glanced up at me as Sheik called the lift.

"I'm sorry-"

"Believe me, I'm the one who should be sorry. I think I just allowed us to be dragged into a double date."

Sheik disappeared into the lift.

She laughed. "He's more devious than you."

"Or maybe it's just payback?"

"I think he may need a little moral support," Zelda said, thoughtfully.

I leaned against the doorframe. God, I loved how sweet she was.

"I owe him anyway," I said, softly.

A moment of shy silence fell between us.

"So, is this a casual meal or full dress up kinda meal?"

Not that it mattered anyway, since Zelda would probably look good in rags. "Sheik tends to go for somewhere special. In fact-" I suddenly felt a shot of dread. "he's probably going to take us the The Cavern."

"Really?" Zelda cried, allowing her excitement to flow into her voice. I melted as she blushed.

"Yeah, we kind of, know the chef."

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"LINKIE!"

I winced as a small yet powerful figure came barrelling across the restaurant to wring my hand. Darunia's smile stretched across his ruddy, scarred face, and his dark, kind eyes twinkled.

"Hey Darunia."

"And you brought Sheik! And Miss Aryll!"

Aryll smiled and hugged Darunia.

"And who might this be?" He asked, suddenly taking notice of Zelda.

"This is Zelda, my…"

Girlfriend? Companion? Soul mate?

All eyes were on me. I had to say something. Goddesses, anything!

"His neighbour," she finished, smiling up at me.

I guess this was exactly why I'd stopped dating in the first place. All those unspoken things, never knowing what to say, how to act.

Still, as her hand brushed mine and our fingers laced together, I remembered why I'd made an exception.

"I have a great table for you, right near the window! And tonight, I shall serve up a feast!"

Darunia led us to a table with a great view of the magnificent fountains outside. Sheik quickly pulled out Aryll's chair for her and I followed suit, watching Sheik as he quickly slipped into the seat beside her. He did seem oddly jittery.

Darunia swiped our menus. "No need to order, trust me! I shall make you all something very special!" He clapped his hands and hurried away into the kitchen as a waitress appeared with a bottle of red and white wine.

"He's very kind," Zelda commented.

"He was a friend of my Father's. Father invested in his first bistro. Darunia has always been most grateful," I explained, taking the bottle of white wine and pouring Zelda a glass.

"Darunia says Linkie's like the son he never had," Aryll piped up, with a smirk.

I shot her a glare.

"I've heard an awful lot about you two," Zelda told them.

"Oh?"

Zelda nodded. It was a relief to know that she was more than a match for Sheik and Aryll. After all, she'd played a role in getting them together.

"Are you going to the party at the Gatesby's?" Sheik asked Aryll.

"I've been invited," She answered, casually.

"Oh," Sheik answered. "Well, I'll be going."

Link rolled his eyes. It was really quite disgusting watching Sheik attempt to ask Aryll out again. Almost as pathetic as watching himself.

"All those parties and events," Zelda sighed, wistfully, "it must be wonderful."

Aryll wrinkled her nose. "You'd think so. It's honestly a bunch of boring people with too much money all bragging about how boring and rich they are."

"But the shrimp toast is a bonus," Sheik added.

Zelda glanced at Link. "I sense your influence here."

"Moi?" I cried, feigning innocence. "I've never said such things. I love parties. And shrimp toast."

"Link says you're very much the flavour of the month," Zelda said to Aryll. "I guess that can't be too bad."

Aryll smiled. "It has it's compensations."

Sheik paled.

"So Zelda, tell us something about you. Link never tells us anything."

I shook my head. "That is categorically untrue."

"I'm honestly not that interesting," Zelda reasoned, shyly, "Just your typical twenty odd year old ice cream and fitness addict."

"Always a good combination," Sheik quipped.

"Do you know how to surf?" Aryll asked, randomly.

"Um, no."

Or maybe not so randomly. "Link's an excellent surfer. He learnt at our house in Devon. He even taught me."

Subtlety was clearly not Aryll's strong point.

"We have to surf?" Sheik yelped. I remembered from school that he was never athletically adept.

"What do you do in New York? I mean, your job?" Zelda asked, turning to me.

"I'm a computer programmer. I specialise in viruses."

"In other words, he's a geek," Sheik added.

"At least I have a job," I shot back. That seemed to catch Aryll's attention.

"You… don't have a job?"

Sheik shifted, uncomfortably. "So I didn't rush into a job after Uni. It's not a crime."

Goddesses, this was a disaster. Double dates were always a bad idea.

"I'd of loved to have travelled after Uni," Zelda chipped in, quickly.

"It was amazing," Sheik told her. "It really made me realise who I really was, what I wanted."

Aryll softened. "I didn't know you'd travelled."

"Oh yeah," Sheik answered. "Italy, France, Austria." His face suddenly lit up. "You know where you'd love, Aryll? You would adore Amsterdam! There's so much culture and history and so many diverse people. The lifestyle is just so healthy and relaxed."

Aryll gazed up at him, smiling dreamily.

"I'll take you there one day. I promise."

She beamed. I looked at Zelda, admiringly. She feigned a breath of relief.

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"How d'you do that?"

It was that perfect time on early summer evenings when the sky is streaked with the golden tones of the sunset and everything is blissfully peaceful. Through the window into the restaurant I could see Sheik and Aryll sharing a desert, their mini spat from earlier well and truly forgotten. Aryll giggled at something Sheik said and pushed him, playfully.

Beside me, Zelda smiled.

"Do what?" She asked, innocently.

"Smooth over what had the potential to become their first fight."

She looked past me and through the window. "You were right. They're good for each other."

We sat down on the grass beside the fountain. Her hand was resting on the grass and I found myself placing my own over it, possessively.

"_You'r_e good Zelda."

She cocked her head to one side, inquisitively. "Good?"

I looked down. "I'm not good at this stuff."

"Humour me?"

"I like you. A lot."

Too much.

She bit her lip. "That's good news."

The fountain gurgled, happily, and somewhere in the distance a car drifted along by. I looked over at Zelda who was watching the water. Maybe I _could_ understand what Sheik was feeling. Zelda would love New York, especially in the winter. And I wanted to share it with her, to see her eyes light up a million times the way Aryll's had tonight.

Was that love?

She shifted closer and laid her head on my shoulder, her golden hair spilling across my chest.

"How did you crash into my life Link Hero?"

I laughed, nervously. "I came to save you Princess Zelda," I told her, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her closer to me.

She sighed. "You have no idea."

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_Additional A/N: Just a couple of points. Yep, I read The Great Gatsby recently, ergo the "Gatesby Party". Plus, Link talks about Aryll getting converted to Solipsism (basically the belief that the entire world has been constructed by your own imagination). This is because of my friend reminding me of this incident when I was in Philosophy class when my friend Michael said he used to be a solipsist. Then I, without thinking, replied, "Ooh, me too!"_

_Humiliation, thy name is Philosophy._


End file.
